


A Hobbit's Halloween

by Merrinpippy



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: And by implied I mean heavily implied, Gen, M/M, belated halloween fanfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-01
Updated: 2013-11-01
Packaged: 2017-12-31 04:26:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1027213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merrinpippy/pseuds/Merrinpippy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since the quest to Erebor thirty years ago, Bilbo Baggins no longer liked Halloween.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Hobbit's Halloween

**Author's Note:**

> Begun on Halloween, finished today! Happy belated Halloween, and I hope you enjoy!

It was two weeks until Halloween, and Bilbo was in his room packing.

Bilbo hadn’t been fond of Halloween since the quest to Erebor. Sure, it was cute to see all the little faunts in bright coloured costumes, but the whole event was just a bit too much for him. The decorations around Hobbiton reminded him of the quest- the hobbits didn’t even know what _real_ fear was! They didn’t know what it was to be certain they were going to die, by the spindly fingers of a creature that shouldn’t exist, by the fangs of a spider, by the claws of a dragon…by the hands of the one who you loved…

Bilbo shook his head and got back to packing. He paused, making sure there were at least two handkerchiefs in his bag, before continuing with his clothes.

He was going to stay with the rangers on the borders of the Shire, like he had for the past year or two. He had been staying with the elves of Rivendell on Halloween up until recently, when he couldn’t bear to be that far from his beloved nephew.

And, speak of the devil…

“Bilbo! Still packing?” Frodo bounced into the room, energetic as ever. His front was covered in flour; he and Samwise were baking (supposedly) in the kitchen of Bag End.

“Yes, Frodo. Still baking?” Bilbo turned to face his nephew, smirking at his dishevelled appearance.

Frodo grinned. “Sam is. I’m…overseeing. Everything _I’m_ baking is already cooking, so I’m not needed just yet.”

“What happened to aprons?” Bilbo raised an eyebrow.

“What happened to light packing?” Frodo nodded towards Bilbo’s bag. It was larger than usual.

Bilbo took a deep breath. “Frodo, I’ll be leaving as soon as I can, but I’m not going to come back as soon as I usually do. There are rumours going around, you know, that _Lobelia,_ ” Bilbo wrinkled his nose with distaste, “will be in charge of the main events, and I don’t want to get pulled into that. You know how…eccentric she can be.”

Frodo smiled, a little sadly, but understanding. They had learned their lesson a long while ago not to stick around Lobelia during Halloween, and last time she’d hosted the events, the party had lasted so long that when Bilbo came back it was still going on (albeit having fewer hobbits celebrating than when it started). Needless to say, Bilbo had been dragged in and made fun of by Lobelia until the party ended.

Bilbo hadn’t been surprised by her actions towards him but that didn’t mean he wanted a repeat of that. Frodo was now considering just trick-or-treating rather than taking part in anything where Lobelia was.

“Tell me when you’re about to go, Bilbo? I have something for you.”

Bilbo was about to ask, but then-

“Frodo!” Sam was calling from the kitchen. Bilbo smiled at Frodo, who smiled back. Bilbo turned to his things as Frodo dashed into the depths of Bag End.

Bilbo’s eyes caught on a piece of parchment sticking out of a crack in the bag. A hidden pocket. Odd, he’d completely forgotten about the pocket. And the parchment…Bilbo slowly took it out. And froze.

It was an ink portrait, obviously by Ori. Bilbo kept the picture Ori had drawn of himself in a chest somewhere else in Bag End. But this was not of him, nor any hobbit.

It was of Thorin.

Bilbo could practically feel his heart clench, his eyes stinging with tears he refused to let fall. He wondered what Thorin was doing now. Was he happy? Did he remember the hobbit he had tried to kill after Thorin’s descent into madness? Did he care?

The answer, Bilbo thought, was most likely no. But these were not thoughts for today. Bilbo put the parchment back into its hidden pocket and closed it. He counted to three slowly.

Satisfied that he had all he needed in his pack, Bilbo took it and headed towards the door of Bag End. “Frodo, I’m off!”

“Wait a second, please, Uncle Bilbo!” Came the reply. Bilbo leaned against his front door. Footsteps echoed around the hallway until Frodo and Sam burst from one of the many passages. Sam was carrying a thin package in his hands, and Frodo held out Bilbo’s old walking stick.

Bilbo smiled. “I almost forgot…” he trailed off, taking the walking stick, but not focusing on that anymore. Rather the _size_ of the package in Sam’s hands was _quite_ familiar…

“You didn’t.” Bilbo said, shocked. Sam and Frodo only grinned at him.

Sam held out the package towards Bilbo. “I know you don’t, uh, celebrate Halloween that much anymore, Master Bilbo, but…Happy Halloween.”

A smile spread across Bilbo’s face as he unwrapped the package. A candy version of his trusty Sting was nestled inside. “I’ll save this for when I reach the rangers. This, this is amazing!”

Sam gestured to Frodo but Frodo told him, “It was a _joint_ effort.”

Bilbo smiled at the two younger hobbits. “Well, both of you did a brilliant job, lads. Have fun on Halloween!”

Bilbo didn’t see Frodo rest his head on Sam’s shoulder as they waved him off, but he knew it would happen, and smiled regardless. He whistled a nice, bright tune and started his journey to the borders of the Shire.      

* * *

 

Thorin was also on a journey, and had been for a long time. His journey was to the Shire. Old wounds had been eating him up for too long, old regrets towards a certain hobbit that _would not_ leave his mind, no matter what Thorin tried to preoccupy himself with.

He’d finally gotten Erebor to a state where he could leave it for ‘short’ periods of time. Kili and Fili begged to come with him, but he got away with saying that _someone_ needed to look after Erebor in his absence. He thanked his Maker that Fili and Kili hadn’t realised the Dis could’ve done the job.

The company had also wished to travel with him, but this was a very personal journey for him and, unlike his quest to Erebor, strength did not come in numbers. It came in…well, Thorin hadn’t gotten to that part yet, but he was working on it.

Because of this, his personal guards were all he had with him, and since they were not very close friends (like the company) they did not speak to him unless spoken to. Thorin had _a lot_ of time to ponder upon his decision to find Bilbo Baggins.

Part of him thought it was incredibly stupid. That part was probably correct. Thorin had no right to ask Bilbo for forgiveness after all these years- the last Thorin had seen him Thorin had _banished_ him from the land he helped reclaim. If only Thorin knew then what a horrible mistake he was making.

Another part of him was wondering about the longevity of hobbits. Thorin knew they lived longer than men, but that was pretty much all he knew.

The last part of him was certain that he was doing the right thing. He needed this; his heart needed this. He thought that he would be happier with Erebor reclaimed, but it seemed that after Thorin’s soul ceased its hold on reclaiming his homeland, it bound itself to the hobbit which was beyond his reach.

Which brought Thorin to the purpose of this journey. What was he even trying to accomplish? Would he be able to settle for _just_ forgiveness? Thorin had loved Bilbo by the end of the quest and yet he nearly _killed_ him. And the memory was killing Thorin.

Soon it would be over. Soon he would arrive, and (hopefully) he would actually be able to find his way to Bag End this time. He would deal with his demons then.

* * *

 

The rangers stopped their conversation as Bilbo entered the familiar clearing. They had agreed to meet here since Bilbo was offered their company. It was, if Bilbo’s calculations were correct, one week until Halloween.

A chorus of “Bilbo!” and “Welcome, hobbit!” surrounded him. Halbarad, one of the rangers, grasped Bilbo’s hand. “It’s nice to see you again, friend,” He told Bilbo with a smile.

Bilbo greeted them all in turn and revealed the nicely preserved candy to them. The rangers laughed and cheered and behaved in ways that were traditionally unlike rangers, but even the stoniest of the Dúnedain smile sometimes.

It dawned on Bilbo that night that he was very lucky to have befriended the Dúnedain rangers. He was even called elf-friend in Rivendell! It was all very odd to him- if befriending races was as simple as being a decent person, shouldn’t there be more friends of each race?

But then, Bilbo thought, it wasn’t so easy after all. Bilbo had joined the company in their quest to reclaim Erebor, and even better, helped them _succeed,_ but he was still banished. And it _hurt,_ so very deeply, to be legally denied the right to speak to or hang around with his old dwarven friends. Then again, they probably now thought him as much a traitor as Thorin did.

Hell, even Bilbo was starting to believe it.

It was with these thoughts in his head that Bilbo fell asleep, to the sound of a low voice singing an old folk song.

* * *

 

The preparation was going very well, in Frodo’s opinion. The baking was completely finished, and so while Sam went to work on the exterior decorations, Frodo went to work on his costume.

Frodo was going to dress up as an undead dwarf. It was unique and was Frodo’s way of commemorating Bilbo’s quest to Erebor. According to Bilbo, he had been a _very_ respectable hobbit before Gandalf and the dwarves came into Bilbo’s life. Personally, Frodo thought he preferred Bilbo how he was.

Frodo also had his own suspicions about certain details that happened along the way. For one, there was that one dwarf Bilbo would _talk about,_ but also _never talk about._ Like a badly kept secret. One of these days, if Frodo didn’t get the truth from Bilbo himself, he was going to confront Gandalf about it. Though he probably wouldn’t get straight answers from the wizard…

His musings were interrupted by a very baffled-looking Sam coming into the study where Frodo was ‘working’. “Mister Frodo, I think you might want to see this!” He exclaimed, leading Frodo towards the front door.

There, standing in the doorway, was…a dwarf?! Frodo had never seen a dwarf before. He was certain, however, that this was one of the dwarves Bilbo had travelled with. Why else would he be at Bag End?

Frodo stared at the dwarf for a few seconds before remembering his manners (drilled into him by his Uncle). “Ah, yeah, hello, and who might you-“

“Thorin Oakenshield. I would say that I am at your family’s service but that is already the case.” Thorin bowed. Frodo stared some more.

So this was the one. Now that Frodo knew the dwarf’s name, he could definitely see the build of a leader- a king now, if Frodo remembered Bilbo’s old stories correctly.

“Ah, please, come in! Make yourself at home. Frodo Baggins, at your service! Sam, could you-“

“I’m on it, Mister Frodo,” Sam dashed towards the kitchen.

Frodo could see now that it wasn’t just Thorin Oakenshield at his door. A few more dwarves stood behind him, but Frodo could tell by their expressions that they had never met a hobbit before and therefore did not know Bilbo.

Thorin was smiling slightly. “Almost like it was thirty years ago…” He said softly, clearly lost in old memories. Frodo almost hated to interrupt.

“I assume you’re here for my Uncle Bilbo?”

“Indeed.” Thorin replied. “He…he isn’t here, is he?”

“You’ve just missed him,” Frodo told him. “Bilbo left last week to visit the rangers on the borders of the Shire.”

Thorin raised an eyebrow. “Really? Why?”

Frodo grimace. “Uncle Bilbo doesn’t like Halloween anymore.” Seeing the confused look on Thorin’s face, he elaborated. “A hobbit tradition which involves dressing up in costume and decorating everything with bats, spiders, fairy tale monsters, that sort of thing.”

Thorin nodded slowly, still curious. “Has he always…?”

“Oh, no, apparently he quite enjoyed the festivities before y- um, before he went off with Gandalf. And you. And your company.” Frodo finished nervously.

Thorin was about to reply when Sam rushed in, carrying two cups of tea. They were quickly pressed into Frodo and Thorin’s hands. Frodo made an apologetic face and stage whispered, “More dwarves! Six or seven of them!”

“Six more,” Thorin added, a ghost of a smile on his face.

Sam threw up his hands in mock exasperation and dashed off to the kitchen again, to the amusement of both Frodo and Thorin.

Frodo returned his attention to Thorin. He gestured for Thorin to continue with what he had been about to say.

Sipping his tea, Thorin nodded. “I…apologise for the inconvenience that it may have caused.”  

Frodo paused, uncertain as to whether or not to burden Thorin with the truth about the quest’s effects on Bilbo. He sighed and grimaced, deciding that Thorin deserved the truth either way.

“Master Oakenshield, you haven’t been in contact with my Uncle since the end of the quest, correct?” Thorin slowly nodded.

Frodo continued. “Hobbits work differently than the other peoples of Middle-earth. Hobbits don’t like adventures. They don’t care about quests, and they do not bother with gold or the sort. To put it lightly, Master Oakenshield, if you were to ask around for respectable Mister Bilbo, you would no longer find him.” Frodo paused.

Thorin’s brow furrowed, and Frodo went on, “You would no longer find him. However, if you were to ask for, say, _Mad Baggins..._ ” Thorin flinched. “…the hobbits you asked would certainly point you to Bag End, and you would not leave without hearing some rumour about him. I would enlighten you, but they make up new accusations all the time, it’s quite hard to keep up.”

Thorin’s mouth was slightly open. No doubt this was new news for him. Frodo almost felt sorry for the dwarf, but it wasn’t really _his fault_ Bilbo had run off. No, the hobbits blamed that on the grey wizard.

“I wasn’t…aware…that the quest would have such a…negative impact on him.” Thorin said so softly it was almost whispered. He raised his eyes to meet Frodo’s. “He told you what I did to him, yes?”

If he meant the banishing and the nearly killing, then yes. Frodo nodded.

“I am not in a place to justify my actions, but-“

“Gold-sickness. I know.” Frodo said quietly, hoping it was the right thing to say.

This made Thorin pause. “You what?”

Frodo grew more confident. “Bilbo was always very insistent with that story. He made it very clear that it wasn’t you.”

Thorin was silent, staring at him with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Although…” Started Frodo, looking Thorin straight in the eye. “I’m not sure if Bilbo truly believes it himself. There is one way to find out, though.”

Thorin raised his eyebrow at him, almost (but not quite) hiding the hope in his face.

Frodo began to write on a piece of parchment directions to exactly where Bilbo was. (Thorin thought Frodo was much better at giving directions than Gandalf.) After a few minutes of explaining, Frodo and Sam were waving off the seven dwarves going to find Bilbo.

Sam looked at Frodo suspiciously. “Are you going to have another Uncle?”

Even Frodo’s most innocent of faces only confirmed Sam’s question, so he gave up and openly grinned instead.

* * *

 

It was the day after Halloween, and Bilbo was looking out over the peaceful fields of the Shire. It was raining but Bilbo was sheltered by the trees he stood under. The rangers had temporarily left to check over the Shire borders and would return the next day.

 As he had the previous years, Halbarad offered to stay behind to keep Bilbo company, but Bilbo had never taken him up on that offer and didn’t intend to.

So Bilbo was alone. He didn’t mind, though. It wasn’t often that he could see the Shire this way, and he enjoyed being able to walk around his homeland without being cast a dirty look.

He smiled sadly and began to walk on the edge of the treeline. If he had stayed still for one more moment he would have seen a dark blur moving towards him from the direction that he himself had come from a week ago. It didn’t matter, though; the blur had seen him.

As it was, Bilbo was walking lightly, almost skipping around the trees at the forest edge. He did not know that the blur was telling his guards to let him alone when they reached the treeline. He also did not know the panic the blur felt when Bilbo began to head back into the forest (the blur in question was terrible at finding his way around).

The blur was now two entities: Thorin and his guards. Thorin wasted no time as he dismounted the pony he’d gotten from Hobbiton. If he was lucky, he could find Bilbo quickly. If he wasn’t lucky…he would be wandering this forest for a long time.

Bilbo was sitting next to a small stream he’d found some time ago. Dipping his toes into the cold trickle of water, Bilbo let out a loud sigh. When he saw something move in the water, he froze. The ripples in the water calmed enough for Bilbo to see that he was not alone.

Slowly he stood and turned around.

Bilbo’s mind had gone completely blank- he had no idea what to do. Somehow Thorin was standing in front of him, and every negative thought Bilbo had ever harboured towards the dwarf was hiding from his mouth. Thorin’s lips turned up in what could have been a hopeful smile, was his brow not creased in worry.

Bilbo did the only thing his body would allow him to. He grinned. And Thorin grinned back.      

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for any mistakes that I haven't picked out yet. During the first half, a friend was telling me ever time I made a mistake (and attempting to get me to make more mistakes) but in the second half she was absent. If any words sound out of place, the blame is shared between the two of us.
> 
> There isn't enough interaction between Thorin and Frodo in a lot of fanfictions, so consider that my attempt to...remedy it? I don't know. I thought it was nice. 
> 
> Also, would you look at that! Bilbo's not dead or dying! Yet.


End file.
